


Lost In Translation

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Dean, Dean's voicemail, Deleted Scenes, Episode: s04e22 Lucifer Rising, Episode: s05e01 Sympathy for the Devil, Gen, Hurt Sam, Manipulative Ruby, Misunderstanding of epic proportions, Really it's a sad one, Sorry guys, seriously so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3742933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has second thoughts about the harsh words he spoke to his brother during their last fight and despite everything tries to reach out to Sam with an apologetic voice mail. Sam is conflicted and it might be just what he needs to hear, but that awesome demon bitch Ruby has other plans. Pretty intense brotherly angst happens in the fallout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost In Translation

**Author's Note:**

> So we had a watch party the other day. The theme was actually the lovely and adorable Chuck, but as a result we watched 4x22 and 5x01, which of course are insanely good and also crazy heart breaking because dammit if those brothers' don't break all my feels with their fractured relationship. But I digress... The call went up for a story (I can't resist a requested prompt) to do with the manipulated voice mail, because surely it might have changed the outcome of things if Sam had been able to hear Dean's actual message. But he didn't. So up came Uncle Luci and the rest you know...  
> Unbeta'd.

As much as Dean hated the haloed sons of bitches for keeping him in this godforsaken gilded box, it sure as hell gave him time to think about the insanity of the last couple of days. Things had gone from bad to worse to the worst they’ve probably ever been. That fight with Sam… Dean had to press his hand roughly into his face to keep it together when he thought about it. God, they could be so absurd sometimes! The shit they’d say when they were mad… Dean didn’t think he regretted anything as much as when he echoed their father and he told Sam never to come back. He knew he meant it at the time, hell, he meant it for a while after, too. That was until Bobby talked some sense into him. He gave him some perspective, took his anger and resignation away from him, and replaced it with the more familiar worry and concern. The bone-deep love he had for his little brother took over then, too. He’d been trying to bury it with that anger because frankly it _hurt_ so much and he just didn’t know what to do anymore. Bobby had a knack for making them both face the music, and as much as sometimes it made Dean want to deck him, he was thankful for it, desperately grateful that he and Sam weren’t as alone as they sometimes felt, and that Bobby always somehow seemed to know what they needed to hear even when they were as fucked up as they were at this particular moment.

Thinking about the angels and where they’d left him was frustrating and fruitless. They never gave all the answers, never cared to share the details of anything in particular, apparently allergic to keeping their so-called soldier in the loop. All it did was make Dean angry and since there was nothing he could do about it he saw no point in mulling it over. Instead he stewed over Sam, about his own part in what lead his brilliant, philosophical baby brother, the one with those damned puppy eyes who always asked Dean the hard questions, down the questionable road he was on. His failures as a big brother surely factored in. He must have let Sam down in more ways than he knew that this could be where they were now.The fact that Dean had found Sam when he ran off despite how hard he tried to shake him was proof positive he knew the kid like the back of his own hand, but that Sam still felt so sure Dean didn’t know him? Had never known him? It broke Dean’s heart to think of how isolated his brother must have felt to think that after everything they’ve been through, after everything they’ve done, after practically living in each others’ pockets for the majority of their lives.

There was pretty much nothing Dean could do about the angels, but he could at least still try with Sam. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and called his brother. He heart sank a little when the voicemail picked up, but he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Hey, it's me. Uh…” Dean cleared his throat and took a breath to steady himself. “Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed... and I owe you a serious beatdown. But... I shouldn't have said what I said. You know, I'm not Dad. We're brothers. You know, we're family. And, uh... no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change. Sammy, I'm sorry.”

He snapped the phone shut and tried not to berate himself for the stupid message. He’s never been great at this anyway, much less at leaving some horrible recording. He just hoped Sam would hear it in time. He prayed it’d be enough to at least get him to call back.

\---

Driving to the Chapel with Ruby was quite possibly the longest and most agonizing drive of Sam’s life. And that’s saying something, considering he more or less grew up on the road, and had made his way from one middle-of-nowhere town, USA, to another in every corner of the country. He’d never had it out with Dean like that before and he couldn’t stop reliving in it in his mind. They’d never fought quite like that, not even when he left for Stanford. It was the worst by a landslide. Everything about it sent Sam’s mind reeling. He knew, _knew_ , when he remembered his hands on his brother’s throat, that he was farther off the reservation than he’d ever been in his life. His eyes burned with tears he struggled to keep to himself as he tried not to think about it. When he told Dean he’d never known him, he knew he must of meant it at the time but now, sitting in the passenger seat of a random car on some unknown back road, Sam was just overwhelmed with how untrue he knew it really was. The car was wrong, and the driver was definitely wrong. Everything about it was wrong.

_You walk out that door, don’t you ever come back._

Sam had to take a slow breath as he heard his brother’s voice echo in his thoughts, praying Ruby wasn’t paying him too much attention. Dean shut him out, just like Dad. Only, it was Dean, so it was a million times worse. And if it was possible, it was made even worse still because it was all his fault. At the time, Sam had been so angry - with Ruby, with Dean, and more than anything with himself - he didn’t hesitate, didn’t let Dean’s words hit him. But it seemed that ever since he and Ruby hit the road, it was all he could think about. His chest was so tight and aching and his mind would not stop racing. He wished to God he could just turn off his brain and stop thinking about how royally he managed to fuck everything up since Dean went to Hell, how he doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, and how much Dean must hate him. Dean, who he’s looked up to his entire life, who he loves more than himself, who went to Hell for him… Thinking about where they are now, he knew he started down this road for a reason, but he was having a shit time trying to remember what that was.

He was so wrapped up in the waking nightmare of his thoughts that he didn’t even notice his phone buzzing in his pocket. When he pulled it out to check it, simply as a distraction to try and keep his head above water, his heart jumped to his throat. 1 new voicemail from: Dean. He stared at the message, a little frozen. His heart started to race a little and suddenly his mouth was dry. With how they left things, he couldn’t believe that Dean would’ve called him. A million thoughts flooded his mind like a monsoon: is Dean okay? Did they learn something new? Is he calling to yell at him, tell him what to do, beg him to stop what he’s doing? Did something happen, is Dean hurt? Is Dean okay? Like a broken record the thoughts repeat and fight for airtime, the loudest of which was worry for his brother, followed by indignation - the thought that after telling him to never come back, he could possibly be calling to ream him out more, throw a little more classic John Winchester in Sam’s face. Yet even as he contemplated the possibilities of the voicemail, Sam wished he could shut down the part of him that resented how Dad always treated him, the part that resented when Dean did the same, because he knew deep down Dean’s probably right, but he couldn’t help himself. Sam slid his thumb over the phone’s edge, conflicted as to whether or not he wanted to risk hearing Dean tell him in one way or another what a complete fucking disappointment he is.

“What are you - a 12 year old girl? Just play it already.” Ruby’s voice cut through his mental turmoil. Sam had lost track of how long he must’ve been staring at the phone in his hand. He sure as hell wasn’t going listen to the message while sitting next to her.

“Mind your own business.” Sam snapped back. Anything to do with Dean made him instinctively protective. He shoved his phone back in his pocket. Ruby had brought him back to the moment, and all he could hear now was Cindy’s muffled screams and her pounding on the insides of the trunk. If he was wound up and tense before, thinking about Cindy and what Ruby was going to get him to do to her… He was about to go over the edge any minute.

\---

Sam would’ve been relieved to get out of the car when Ruby finally pulled over in front of the sign for St. Mary’s, except for what he knew was waiting for him. On the precipice of possibly the worst decision he’s ever made, Sam found little relief as he unfolded himself from the passenger seat and finally stretched his legs. However many torturous hours it’d taken them to get here, listening to the pleading of the innocent woman in the trunk, Sam had gone over every argument he could scrape up for and against the path that still lay before him. He’d made his peace with the fact he didn’t think he was going to get out of this alive. He was well aware that was more than shitty payback for his brother who’d gone to Hell to save his life, but if it could stop Lilith… He couldn’t even convince himself that was worth it anymore. He wasn’t even sure anything mattered, not after what he’d already done, not after all the ways he’d already hurt and let down his brother. He could never take those things back, never undo everything he’d done with Ruby. Dean was always going to know what a fuck up he was, so he might as well see it through. At least he could gank the bitch on his way out.

But Cindy… He closed his eyes and tried to steel himself against the sounds she was still making. He took a few steps away from the car. Sam couldn’t believe his life had come to this. If Dean could see him now… The ache in his chest swelled sharply at the thought.

“Sam, it’s time. Are we doing this or not?” Ruby’s irritation with him was not subtle.

“Give me a minute to think,” Sam said back through gritted teeth.

“Sam-”  
“Give me a damn minute, Ruby!” He shot back. He made tense fists with his hands at his sides.

“Better think fast,” she snapped, obviously getting fed up with him.

Sam sighed and finally decided.  It was now or never. He’d let Dean help him make up his mind. He grabbed for his cell phone, finally ready to listen to the voicemail. He desperately wished Dean would say something to pull him off this ledge.

Sam pressed the play button and nervously brought the phone to his ear. As his brother’s voice came through the machine, he drew in a sharp breath and his heart absolutely plummeted. With each word, he succumbed to the overwhelming sense of loss, self-loathing, and resignation.

_Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam - a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back._

For a moment, Sam stood stunned, though he wasn’t surprised. He knew he deserved that but his eyes welled up anyway. Suspecting all of it was one thing, but hearing it finally from Dean’s own mouth… Sam shook head and shut his eyes against the tears. There was no turning back. He was a monster, and he’d done this to himself and failed the one person that mattered more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t live with himself. He made up his mind. He would do this, whatever it took. He’d take down Lilith and hopefully himself too in the process. At least then he’d never be able to let Dean down again.

Sam took a deep breath and put his phone away with a sense of grave finality before speaking to Ruby. He didn’t turn to look at her. “Do it.”

\---

Sam was back where he belonged in the passenger seat next to his big brother. Well, mostly, anyway. Instead of the Impala they were in some generic, still new-smelling sedan from the rental place at the airport. They’d been driving in silence since they hit the road because really, Sam had less ideas about how to talk to his brother right now than he did about how to build a rocket that could take him to the moon. If he thought he knew agony before, when he was on the road to this disaster trapped in another not-the-Impala with Ruby, he was kidding himself. At least then, despite everything else, he thought it was worth something. There was a tiny part of him that thought, if I’m going out a monster, at least I’ll take out the bitch who took my brother from me. He had no idea that this was part of the grand plan the entire time, that Ruby fucking played him, that he was every bit the pathetic shmuck Dean warned he was, and that he gave into the evil inside himself for nothing. Worse than nothing, he freed Satan. Satan. Against all the warnings from everyone - the angels, Dean, his own heart - he followed Ruby and was taken for a ride like a prize idiot. Sam didn’t think he’d known a despair like that of the pit sucking the life out of his stomach as he sat there now, completely unable to look at his brother.

He couldn’t even wrap his head around anything that had happened. First Lilith and that lying bitch Ruby, but then, Dean was there. How? And more importantly, why? He’d given up on Sam. Dean had made it abundantly clear he was done with him in every way, except maybe to hunt him down like the monster he’d become and end him. But… Then he was there, in the Chapel. He had the demon knife but only used it on Ruby before clutching at Sam and trying to run like any other hunt, like any other time he’d ever yanked Sam’s ass out of the fire just in the nick of time, ganked some Supernatural piece of crap and then high-tailed it out of there. For a fleeting moment Sam let himself hold on to that thought, a tiny wisp of hope that maybe, just maybe, Dean had come back to actually save him.

 _I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam_. Sam shuddered as the memory rippled through his thoughts, extinguishing his hope the way a summer rain dampens the smoldering coals of a fire and makes it impossible for them to be relit. He felt dead inside, the words from his brother’s voicemail now playing over and over in his mind. It left no space to think about anything else, even the mystery of how they survived, wound up on some plane in mid-flight, incredibly made it back to Earth, and somehow managed to get back to one of the only homes they ever knew - the back roads of America. None of that mattered enough in that moment to distract Sam from the sounds of his brother calling him a freak. A vampire. A monster. He _was_ a monster. And he was still alive, and he was going to have face the fact that his brother thought he should be dead.

Apparently the silence had drawn on longer than Dean could deal with. Sam had been doing his best not to look his way and hadn’t seen how clearly agitated and uncomfortable his brother was in the darkness of the car. Out of nowhere Dean turned on the radio and proceeded to flip through the preprogrammed channels with increasing frustration.

“-and Governor O'Malley urged calm-”

“-saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown.”

“-Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area-”

“-announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear-”

“-a series of tremors-”

“-swine flu-”

Dean finally gave up and shut off the radio, letting a tense silence settle in its wake. Sam sighed. He didn’t know what to say, but it was clear something had to be said. They’d have to start somewhere.

“Dean, look-”

“Don't say anything.” Dean cut him off. Not angrily, but firm. Sam didn’t have the words anyway, and frankly after what happened he was pretty ready to do whatever Dean told him to without hesitation. After a moment though, Dean surprised Sam by speaking again.

“It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?”

Sam blinked. Dean was being oddly rational. Everything that happened and that seemed so… Appropriate. _But he was done saving you. Freak. Monster_. Sam forced the voice to the back of his mind and tried to listen to the Dean that was next to him, talking to him right now.

“Yeah, okay.” He finally answered.

“All right, well, first things first—How did we end up on Soul Plane?” Dean had his eyes on the road and Sam couldn’t help but admire how his big brother was trying to keep them grounded by looking at this the way they looked at every freaky thing and unbelievable occurrence that they stumbled upon. He tried not to let everything that was warring inside his head keep him from following Dean’s lead.

“Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of harm's way?” It was Sam’s best guess. He had no idea who else might have the mojo for that, much less a reason to do it.

“Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas.” Dean’s voice betrayed a combination of annoyance and concern. It occurred to Sam for the first time that maybe Cas had something to do with Dean finding him at the Chapel, but he hadn’t seen him. He wondered what happened to him, if he was okay. Then it struck him that Cas would know, too. His stomach sank sharply. Dean knew he was a monster, and maybe he hadn’t killed him yet on account of them being brothers once upon a time, but Cas would have no such reservations. He had always said he would have to stop Sam, too. But then he didn’t. Where was he in those final moments? He must not have had the chance. Sam’s emotions churned inside him as he struggled to reconcile his worry for their one-time ally with dread for his own future despite knowing full-well what he deserved. Maybe Dean would let Cas take care of him, so he wouldn’t have to. Though his voicemail hadn’t suggested he would have any qualms about it… Sam was so _confused_. He didn’t understand why he was still here and why Dean hadn’t done him in already. He was a monster before and now? Now he was the monster that let himself be played by a demon and let Lucifer out. It was even worse. He was so distressed it was beginning to overwhelm him completely. His mind was absolutely scattered and he felt like he was drowning, as if everything was coming down on him at once. His ability to keep it together was quickly slipping away from him. His breathing started to lose its natural rhythm and slip into something a lot more like hyperventilating. He was hit with a wave of nausea and the back of his neck was suddenly burning hot.

Dean had been trying not to think about anything anymore but the simple task of driving and getting back to his baby. Silence had been hanging between him and his brother, but then he was pulled from his focus on the road by the suddenly audible puffs of breath coming from the passenger seat.

He quickly looked over at his brother to see him breathing rapidly, face drained of colour, and making anxious fists on his lap. He was in a full-blown panic that Dean had rarely seen on him before, certainly not since he was a kid. Despite everything, despite how incredibly pissed off and disappointed he was in Sam, his brother in distress seemed to override everything and throw Dean into big brother mode faster than you can say ‘Sammy.’

“Sam? Hey, whoa, what- you okay?” Dean’s concern knit his brows together and he instinctively reached over to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Sam shook his head stiffly, his stupidly long hair shaking free from behind his ears and falling in front of his face. Dean noted how quickly the colour in his brother’s face was shifting from deathly pale to greyish-green.

“Sam- hey, you gonna be sick? Need me to pull over?”

His brother’s nod in the affirmative was almost frantic and he was more or less gasping for air now. Dean blinked at the rear-view to make sure it was clear and wrenched the wheel hard to the shoulder and slammed the car into park. Sam was weakly reaching to open his door but Dean was up and out of his the moment the car was turned off, rushing around to the passenger side to help. He had to practically lift Sam out of the car. When he got him to his feet he eased up his grip for just a second and Sam faltered and stumbled, starting to heave even before his knees and palms hit the gravel.

Dean brought a hand up to roughly run over his face. No amount of anger made it easier for him to see Sam like this, on his fours in dark on the side of the road, wracked with sobs and choking gasps as he brought up blood and bile and whatever else might have been in his stomach. He had to squeeze his eyes shut hard to keep them dry. They were farther off any map they’d ever known, Dean’s internal compass was spinning, not knowing where to go next, and he was barely holding it together himself.

When the sounds of Sam’s retching finally stopped, replaced with shaky, shallow breaths, Dean chanced a look at his brother. He was sitting back on his heels, and he wiped the corner of his mouth on his jacket before holding his face in his hands. Dean could see him trembling from where he was standing, despite the darkness. Even though he knew it would be back, he wouldn’t be able to stave it off forever, Dean pushed down all the hurt and anger and tried to let all the love for Sam and years of looking after him take over. He moved closer and bent his knees so he was at Sam’s level, tentatively placing a hand on his brother’s back.

Sam tensed instantly at the touch.

“Dean-” he tried to croak out through his hands but his voice was raw from all he brought up.

“Sammy…” Dean said it so gently, like every other time Sam had been sick, and it felt like a knife to the gut.

“Dean,” he finally managed to get out, his voice hurting and the word metallic-tasting in his mouth. “Please… don’t make me wait for Cas to do it. Just. Get it over with. _Please_.”

Dean blinked at his brother’s words, so strained and weak he had had to lean in to hear them.

“Sammy, what are you talking about?” He was more than a little exasperated, but he was definitely too tired for a blow-out fight so he tried to keep his tone soft. He took a deep breath and tried to remember he was being a big brother right now, not a hunter whose misguided partner had betrayed him only to inadvertently free the devil. He was trying to stay focused on Sam.

Sam didn’t answer for quite a while, and Dean’s legs were starting to tingle with how long he’d stayed crouched next to him.

“Me, Dean,” it was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “You gotta deal with me. I can’t-” he stuttered a little, and Dean could hear that he was crying. Dean groaned inwardly, annoyed because he didn’t want to deal with a weepy brother right now and heartbroken because when Sam cried it always killed him. “I don’t deserve- you should just- it’s what you came to do at the Chapel, isn’t it? I don’t understand- _why am I still here_?”

Sam’s sobs made him hard to understand and his broken sentences weren’t helping. Dean’s legs were done with crouching, almost numb now, so he got down to his knees in the gravel next to his brother and sat back on his heels. He took Sam’s shoulders firmly in his hands, turning his brother toward him. Though he let Dean move him, Sam kept his face in his hands.

“ _Sam_ ,” he stressed. “What are you going on about? Maybe I’m too tired or maybe my brain is about to short a circuit with everything that’s happened but I’m not following you, kiddo. Spit it out, arrite?” Dean’s voice was a solid point for Sam to hold on to while his world spun out of control. But when Dean called him kiddo, it slammed him back to his twelve year old self and his breath hitched newly in his chest like the knife in his gut was given a twist. Dean wasn’t making this easy on him. Part of Sam was almost grateful for it, since there was hardly anything in the world that could be suffering enough for what he’d done.

“ _Dean_ ,” he choked out. He crossed the line into hysterical now, speaking frantically and all at once. “You said you were done- I thought- in the Chapel when I saw you- I don’t know- why’d you come? I thought- if I ever saw you again it’d- it’d be so you could-” he could barely get the words out around the sobs and Dean felt like he was clutching at a life ring in a storm trying to follow along. “You’d end me- like you said, hunt me down like the m-m-monster I am, like the f-f-freak- you said-”

Dean’s head was spinning. It was almost more than he could bear.

“Sam- Sammy, please, hey, stop. What- when have I- c’mon, man… Look I know we had it out a few days back but I didn’t- I never said I was coming after you? Hey, look at me, Sammy…”

He didn’t even know if Sam was listening. His face was still in his hands and he was crying steadily. Dean took a hand and slipped it between Sam’s forearms to find his chin and made him look at him. The look on Sam's face cut right through him, right through all the anger and disappointment, right through the very heart of him. Sam looked more wrecked than Dean could ever remember seeing him and Dean’s face was wet now too, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“I came to that Chapel to stop you, Sammy, I did. But I came to _save_ you. I was trying to get you outta there, before it… I was too late, I know, but- I wasn’t gonna-” he can’t even bring himself to say it. How could Sam even think it? That Dean would ever… “I could never do that, Sam. I told you. When I told you what Dad said and I meant it, no matter what. I’d die first, you understand me?”

Dean was almost as frantic as his brother as he tried to make him listen. By the time he stopped for air, Sam was finally looking at him, his big, wet, puppy eyes carving up Dean's insides, but he had stopped sobbing and was finally listening. His face was drenched and he looked every bit the five year old Dean remembered, eyes red and puffy, dark lashes clumped together with the same tears that were still dripping off his chin. It was breaking Dean’s heart.

“But…” Sam started weakly. His face screwed up a little in confusion. “But your voicemail, you said…” He shook his head a little, struggling to understand.

Dean was even more confused, too. If Sam had heard his voicemail, what the Hell was he on about? He thought… He’d been trying to fix things.

“Yeah, Sammy, I was trying to reach out to you. Wanted to bring you back. I was sorry, man. I was sorry.” Dean’s eyes pleaded with him. He wanted to understand, he did. But so far, the pieces were still not coming together.

Sam stared at him blankly, blinking.

“I don’t… You said… You called me a vampire… Said I was a, uh, monster, and… You were done trying to save me… And...” His voice was calm now, but weighed down and quiet with a sadness that Dean felt, too.

Dean shook his head.

“No, Sammy, that’s not… I never said that. I don’t understand. Gimme your phone.”

Sam moved as if under water, slow and drifting as he took out his phone and handed it to his brother. Dean scrolled through to find the message, and listened with growing horror at what played.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment after the recording stopped.

“Sammy… Sam, I _did no_ t leave that message. I… I dunno how it wound up like that but- man, I called to apologize. Wanted you to know that no matter how angry I was, we’re still brothers, and I shouldn't have said those things to you. Shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. I swear.” Dean could practically see the tension as it melted out of his brother’s body, and he swayed a little weakly into Dean’s hand which was still on his shoulder.

“God, Sam, you really thought… _Jesus_ …” With that Dean pulled Sam to him, bringing his brother’s head to shoulder and tucking it under his chin. Sam reached his arms around his brother and clutched at the fabric of his jacket, clung to him like it was all that would keep him afloat.

It was indulgent, sitting there like that. Dean knew it. They really needed to keep moving, get the Impala and drive like mad to Chuck’s, find out where the hell Cas was, what they were supposed to do next. The freakin’ devil was out there somewhere, and Dean was still angrier with Sam than he ever thought possible. But for right now, at this moment, Dean was lost in comforting that same pain-in-the-ass little brother that he sold his soul for, would still sell his soul for, because it was part of the very definition of who he was. When they’d get back to the car, they’d be back on the hunt, and Dean would have to grapple with his anger and the fracture in his heart that Sam made when he chose Ruby over him, and right now Dean just wanted to hold on to his brother. So, everything else be damned, Dean sat in the gravel on the side of some back country road in the dark and held his little brother to him for all he was worth.


End file.
